


Get My Feet Back On The Ground

by Jo (jmathieson)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Closet Sex, Inappropriate Erections, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Clint had to ignore an inconvenient erection and one time he didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get My Feet Back On The Ground

**The time in the conference room**  
The first time was the day after he and Phil had... got together. And had wild sex on Phil's living room floor. Clint still had rug burns on both his knees. They were in a briefing, and Clint was very carefully not looking at Phil's face. Because right now he couldn't look at Phil's face without remembering what Phil looked like when he was coming. Apparently he couldn’t look at Phil's hands, either, without remembering what it felt like to have those strong, sure fingers inside him, working him open. Clint shifted in his seat, trying to will down his growing hard-on. At least this briefing looked like it was going to last a while. Clint spent the next ten minutes staring out the window, instead.

 

**The time on a mission**  
The second time was on a mission. Clint was up on his perch, waiting for the mark to show. He had his bow aimed at the back door of the club the mark used to launder his dirty money. Phil was on comms, checking in, like he'd done hundreds of times before.

"Status, Barton?"

"Nothing yet, boss. Any word from inside the club?"

"No, our informant is either keeping radio silence or is too scared to talk."

"No problem. It'd be nice to have a couple of seconds warning, but I'll get him when he comes through that door."

"I know you will." Even across the tinny comm line, Phil's voice was warm and sincere, and Clint could hear in it how very much Phil believed in him. It went straight to his heart. And, annoyingly, his dick. He needed both hand on his bow to make the shot. His dick would just have to lump it.

 

**The time at the gym**  
The third time was in the gym. Clint was working out on the weight machines, and Phil was taking some junior agents through their paces. He was pulling his usual trick of choosing either the biggest brute or the biggest loudmouth in the class to 'demonstrate' on, and watching Phil throw the guy around like a rag doll, well... Look Clint had a thing for competence, okay? It was one of the reasons he'd been attracted to Phil in the first place. Besides, he was almost finished his set and was about to head off to the privacy of a shower cubicle to deal with his... admiration, when the alarms started to go off. Clint was glad the noise of the klaxons covered his swearing as he tried to run for his gear...

 

**The time in bed**  
The fourth time was in bed. They had just had some pretty spectacular sex, and then laid together, talking and cuddling for an hour or so afterwards. Phil's thigh was warm and soft against his groin, and they were dozing, enjoying the post-coital glow, enjoying the fact that they were going to get a whole eight hours sleep for a change. Together. In a bed. A nice, soft bed with Phil's arms around him and Phil's head snuggled onto his shoulder and Phil's warm, soft thigh draped across his... 

"Sorry," said Clint.

"Don't be. Though I've got to say, I'm impressed. Even when I was your age, it took me four hours to be ready to go again. I can - " Phil was moving his thigh and reaching down with his hand.

"No, don't." Clint said.

"I don't mind." Phil tilted his head to look up at him. "I really don't."

"I know," Clint said, dropping a kiss on top on Phil's head, "But I'm comfortable and I'm tired and so are you. Just ignore it, it'll go away."

"Are you sure? Don't say that just for my sake. I'm not insecure about my age or my... you know."

"I hope not - you have absolutely nothing to be insecure about. You are incredibly sexy. And I want to have sex with you again first thing in the morning. After we both get a full night's sleep."

Phil grinned. "Sounds great."

 

**The time in the cafeteria**  
The fifth time was in the cafeteria. They'd been together six months at this point, and Clint was pretty sure that his Phil Coulson-related inconvenient erection problem was a thing of the past. They were still having great sex on a regular basis, but it wasn't a novelty any more, and he could look at Phil's hands without picturing them curled around his biceps, holding him down while... All this to say that they were enjoying a quiet meal together in the cafeteria when Phil took a bite of his pie and moaned. And Clint's dick stood up to attention.

"Phil," hissed Clint.

"What?" Phil asked around the second forkful of pie that he was stuffing into his mouth.

"You can't be doing that!"

"Doing what?"

"Making sex noises when you're eating in public!"

"What? I wasn't!"

"Yes. You. Were." Clint's eyes bored into Phil until Phil dropped his own gaze to his tray.

"It's really good pie."

"Just eat it quietly."

 

**And the time on the range**  
And then there was the time on the range. Clint was shooting, as he usually did for an hour, at least, every day that he wasn't out on a mission or laid up in Medical. Phil had recently gotten into the habit of trying to schedule his own range time to coincide with Clint's practice sessions. Sure, they worked and lived together, and so theoretically spent a lot of time together, but between missions, late nights, and the afore-mentioned time spent laid up in Medical, they had learned to grab every moment they could. This was one of them, standing side-by-side at the range in adjacent lanes, practicing. 

Clint shot his 20th arrow and paused, waiting for Phil to finish emptying his clip before heading downrange to retrieve is arrows. Sure, there was a bullet-proof Plexiglas wall sectioning off the archery lane, but only morons ignored basic range safety. Clint watched Phil shoot. His stance was solid, his arms steady, his body motionless as he pulled the trigger smoothly for each shot. Each shot which hit its target precisely. Clint found himself breathing a little heavily. He still had a thing for competency, okay?

Phil emptied his clip and ejected it, replaced it with a fresh one, engaged the safety, and put his gun down on the table in front of him. Then he looked up and nodded at Clint. Clint smiled. He couldn't help it. Phil looked so damn sexy with his shirtsleeves rolled up and his hair a little bit mussed.

Damn. Clint had spent just a couple of seconds too long thinking about Phil's marksmanship and sexy forearms, and now he had a problem. Again. But maybe this time... Clint looked Phil straight in the eye, and then reached down to adjust himself in his uniform pants. He watched as Phil's eyes flicked down, and then back up. As Phil's tongue peeped out to wet his lower lip. 

Clint stepped gingerly around the Plexiglas wall separating the archery lane from the gun lanes.

"Think I'm done practicing for the day," he said.

"Oh?" Phil's eyes were bright, and Clint couldn't help but notice how Phil's glance flicked from his face to his arms to his neck to his...

"Yeah. How 'bout you?"

"I... uh... I guess I'm done." Clint could tell by the way Phil moved as he cleaned up his brass and locked up his sidearm that he was hard too. There was a security camera blind spot in the corner just outside the range doors, and a nearby maintenance closet that...

That Phil apparently had a keycard for, Clint realized as he was pushed up against some pretty uncomfortable shelving, which would have mattered to him more if Phil wasn't trying to excavate his tonsils with his tongue. 

"Jesus, fuck, Phil, tell me you have lube, please." 

"Inside jacket pocket," Phil gasped as Clint palmed him through his suit pants. 

"How long have you been carrying lube in your jacket pocket?" Clint asked, grinding himself against Phil's thigh.

"Since that time in the cafeteria."

Clint's brain went offline temporarily as Phil unfastened his uniform pants and shoved them and his underwear down in one move. 

"What... what time in the cafeteria?" It was getting harder to form coherent sentences. Clint was leaning up against the wall and Phil was at his back, working two fingers into him and biting the thick muscles of his shoulder.

"The time I was eating pie." Phil said as he dropped his pants and slicked himself.

"Oh. That time. Oh. Oh. Fuck. Phil. Yes."

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on tumblr.](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


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